


Garuda

by Noelle_Floust



Series: Javert Fixation [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Les Miserables - Freeform, Les Misérables References, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelle_Floust/pseuds/Noelle_Floust
Summary: "What about as a man?" (Name) blurted out.Javert stopped, clearly confused, "Pardon?""You said that as an officer of the law, there was nothing for you to do if my husband tried to find me. But what about as a man?"This seemed to startle Javert. His lips formed a line and he looked downward again, deep in thought. Without another word, he left. (Name) smiled to herself.
Relationships: Javert (Les Misérables)/Reader, Javert/Reader, Javert/You
Series: Javert Fixation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548637
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Garuda

**Author's Note:**

> *Gasp* Qu'est'ce-que c'est ? Another work for me to abandon? Excellent! 
> 
> It took me like four months to write this first chapter solely because I have to be in a very specific mood to write. I can't promise another chapter anytime soon, but I do have an actual plan for this particular fic.
> 
> I imagine Philip Quast as Javert- because I'm a hoe for that man- but feel free to imagine whoever you please.
> 
> I do not own Javert, but I did yoink Victor Hugo's description of him straight from the Norman Denny translation of Les Mis. Sorry, Viccy.

The night of the wedding. A night that (Name) knew she’d have to give up the last of her pride. Her husband would take what he wanted, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Not if she wanted to support her family. Her husband was nice enough, but she knew that façade would be gone the moment the bedroom door closed.

His name was Alfred. He was by all means a respectable man. If he weren’t, her parents- who only wanted the best for her- wouldn’t have selected him. It was her duty to assure a good future for herself, as well as her well-meaning parents. If she had to endure a night with her husband for that future, she would endure it. She would have a child soon, anyway. That would be her new beacon of hope. Something to keep her from leaving.

Alfred was upon her the moment their new servant closed the door. Her beautiful dress was torn in the haste to remove it. That irritated her, but she kept quiet and complacent. He kissed her, she did not respond. That was her first mistake. A sharp strike to the cheek, a few tears stinging her eyes. It was nothing her father hadn’t done before. She would get used to her husband’s hand in time.

Though she knew her husband was in the right, she couldn’t help the anger swelling up in her breast. She could feel it like lava inside of her. She tried to tramp it down by telling herself she should give this small favor to her husband for everything he was giving her, but she couldn’t help feeling that she might just be wrong. Maybe this wasn’t how a relationship was supposed to be. Maybe those fairy tales she’d read as a child were the guide for how marriage should go. She had seen happy couples before- couples that looked fresh and perfect and without bruises. Her mother and father were distant, but never fighting. At least not in front of (Name).

Alfred pushed her down onto the bed, her body now exposed to him. She felt embarrassed, maybe even a bit panicky. She wasn’t unclothed very often, and she hardly knew this man. As he tore off his trousers, (Name) folded her arms over her chest. Second mistake.

“Uncover yourself.” Alfred said harshly.

(Name) shook her head, the tears from earlier still on the verge of falling. Alfred struck her again, and again. Four times. Then, he grabbed her wrists and tore them from her chest. He pinned them above her head using only one of his hands. He entered her swiftly. It was a shock. (Name) used all of her energy to not scream. Alfred gave her no time to adjust to this new intrusion. The repeated entrance of his member burned. It felt like the skin inside of (Name) was being scrubbed off. Alfred apparently felt this as well, for he pulled away, spat into his hand and rubbed it on himself, then entered again.

The second time was just as painful. Alfred didn’t stop, no matter how much (Name) whimpered or protested. 

It took only a minute for Alfred to empty himself into (Name). He wrapped a hand around her throat as he did so. He squeezed harshly. Her eyes crossed.

Finally, he removed himself for the last time. There was a silence as he panted and (Name) cried.

“You should wash.” He said, too gently for what he’d just done. He buttoned himself back up and left the room.

(Name) laid on the bed, reliving the short encounter over and over in her mind. Soon, however, she had to get up. She rang the bell for her head maid, too exhausted to wash herself. The maid came in and said nothing. An older woman, she’d surely seen a worse sight than (Name) in that moment.

The bath water had already been prepared and was still warm. (Name) wished to duck her head beneath the surface of the water and never come up again. Her maid kept her from doing so by washing her hair and body. She minded the bruises.

“I know it seems dark now, milady, but you will accustom yourself to your husband.” The maid said.

That struck a nerve. 

(Name) stood, water flying everywhere, including all over her maid.

“Dress me. Quickly.” She said.

The maid mumbled something about ungrateful brats, but brought a dress and underthings nonetheless. (Name) impatiently attempted to help in her dressing. The maid was slow, and (Name) decided to just leave with her bodice half-buttoned and her stockings at her ankles. Her hair hadn’t even been done. Still, it was the middle of the night, and she doubted anyone would care what she looked like where she was going.

Thankfully, her husband was nowhere to be found as she made her way out of the house. 

It was chilly outside. The cobbled streets shone like silver from the rain that had just fallen. Rain on a wedding day was a sign of luck. Yeah, right.

The police station wasn’t very far, but there were many alleys between (Name)’s new home and the prefecture of police. France could be a dangerous place at night.

(Name) hurried down the streets, surely looking strange to those few still out and about. There were women on street corners, looking about as frazzled as her, selling their bodies as their products. Paige hesitated when one called to her. 

"What's a pretty young thing like you doin' out at night?" The woman asked.

Paige didn't reply, but she stopped. If she reported this one incident, her whole life could be ruined. She could be forced to turn to the streets, like these women. Her family would disown her, surely, and she would have nothing and no one.

Then the image of Alfred's face as he loomed over her flashed through her mind. Anger fueled her feet running towards the prefecture. She kept that picture in her head. She couldn't forget a single detail.

The prefecture was dimly lit with two lanterns over the door. Paige could hear chatter inside. She slowed her pace as she approached. Her hair was tied inexpertly up on her head. She couldn't fix her own hair if her life depended on it, and it very well might have at that moment.

She opened the door gently, and a few heads turned towards her. She could tell they were judging her immediately.

"I'd like to report a crime." She said softly.

An officer was over to her immediately. He was a very tall, robust man with a flat nose, thin lips, narrow brows, and a large jaw. Locks of hair covered his narrow forehead and fell over his eyebrows. The rest of his hair was dark and immaculately combed. He had very large hands. He almost resembled a wolf. Of course, (Name) had heard of the great inspector Javert.

"What crime do you wish to report?" He asked, no hint of empathy in his voice.

(Name) swallowed hard. Be a lady, she kept thinking to herself. She folded her hands in front of her and looked down at her boots.

"My husband has assaulted me." She whispered.

Javerts shuffled in front of her, "Repeat yourself, please, mademoiselle."

(Name) squeezed her eyes shut. Her words caught in her throat, and she didn't speak for a moment, then, "My husband has assaulted me, sir."

It got a lot more silent in the prefecture. (Name) looked up. More men were staring.

Javert held his hand out towards a desk in a corner, "Please, come and have a seat."

(Name) followed Javert, keeping her eyes down. Her heart was pumping rather quickly; perhaps she'd have to have a bloodletting whenever this mess was fixed. She had had them regularly as a child when her heart would beat too fast and her breath would be too short.

She sat on one side of the desk, and Javert on the other. He took a pen and parchment and looked up at (Name).

"Recount the incident, if you would." 

(Name) sighed, and told the man in front of her everything. She felt heat rise up her neck when recounting the story, but she knew it had to be done. When she was finished, she looked up at Javert. He hadn't written anything.

"Mademoi- er, Madame, I am afraid that what a husband does with his wife is no business of the state." He said.

(Name) went white. She shook her head, suddenly feeling faint. Had she had anything besides alcohol all day? Before she knew it, (Name) was falling off of her chair. 

Three police men, including Javert, came to her aid. One cradled her in his arms- she couldn't tell which one- and one ran off to fetch water. The other was fanning her with paper.

"I am sorry." She said weakly, tears springing to her eyes. She hated being so fragile.

"Nothing to worry about, mam'selle." A man with a funny provincial accent said.

Another man came back with a glass of water. (Name) gulped it down, not caring that the action was so Bohemian. With assistance, she stood. Javert had been the one cradling her. She flushed.

"I have it from here, gentlemen." Javert said.

The other men hesitantly walked off, still watching from their desks. (Name) sat back in her chair.

"There has to be something you can do." She whispered, looking pleadingly up at Javert.

The man stroked his bare chin, eyes downcast. (Name) could see everything he thought, right there on his face. His brows rose and dropped in time with his thinking. His eyes closed and then popped open when he had a sudden thought.

"I am afraid I cannot do anything to aid you, Madame." 

(Name)'s heart dropped. She stood, hands searching for the inspector's. They were large and warm as she held them in hers.

"Please, Monsieur, please. I beg you. I cannot return."

Javert's cold eyes stared at (Name). He seemed to be thinking again. He retracted his hands and folded them neatly together on his desk. 

"I am in need of a housekeeper." He said slowly. It took (Name) a minute to figure out just exactly what he was saying.

Her heart leapt gracefully up into her throat. She felt her pulse there, beating away quickly in relief and elation.

"Oh, Monsieur, thank you-"

"There is nothing for me to do as an officer of the law if your betrothed comes for you." Javert said sharply.

(Name) nodded. She was so happy. Javert looked around at the other men, who all quickly looked down at their desks when they caught his gaze. Some were smirking. (Name) didn't like the looks on their faces. There was nothing funny about her situation.

"My shift has been over for half the hour, let me accompany you to my home. I cannot assure you whether I will stay or not."

(Name) just smiled. She took the time where Javert was putting his things away to try and discreetly fix her hair. All thoughts within her head were thoughts of joy. She would be escaping. 

Javert began walking out of the precinct. (Name) knew to follow. She tried to keep up with his speed, but he always stayed a few paces ahead. His strides were long and purposeful, with a straight back and head held high. (Name) tried to duplicate this posture but failed.

The inspector's abode was not far from the precinct, which wasn't very surprising to (Name). The man was very clearly obsessed with his work. 

The house was small, but it had a garden. The inside was cold and the fireplace looked like it hadn't been used in years.

"I expect you will be able to find everything." Javert said, not meeting (Name)'s eyes. He was still stood at the door.

"Yes, Monsieur." 

Javert nodded curtly. He looked around, then placed a hand on the door handle, ready to leave.

"What about as a man?" (Name) blurted out.

Javert stopped, clearly confused, "Pardon?"

"You said that as an officer of the law, there was nothing for you to do if my husband tried to find me. But what about as a man?"

This seemed to startle Javert. His lips formed a line and he looked downward again, deep in thought. Without another word, he left. (Name) smiled to herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some comments. Tell me about your day.


End file.
